Over the Edge: City of Angels Saiyukistyle
by jadesword
Summary: my version of the meg ryannicolas cage movie 'city of angels', starring the sanzouikkou! please review!


Over the Edge: City of Angels, Saiyuki-style  
  
jadesword  
  
notes:  
  
/ / -- humans' thoughts   
  
-- angel's thought-speech  
  
_ _ -- deity's thought-speech  
  
* * -- general emphasis  
  
One: Angels  
  
/Too many cars on the streets too many people on the sidewalks the sun shining down the back of my neck hurts and I've got to wait for the window crews to leave before I go to the rooftop how much longer must I stay here?/  
  
The concourse is packed, people in somber suits rushing about on shiny leather shoes to power breakfasts and whispers over coffee and last-minute pep talks just seven and a half minutes before the start of another working day. The seats are made of tubular steel, the tablecloths are green and maroon and white and sky blue, the marble-tiled fifty-fifth floor is dotted with flowering plants in their containers.  
  
The blue of the tablecloth is several shades lighter than the azure of its lone occupant's waist-length braid, and the coffee in the white oversized mug has long since cooled.  
  
/How much longer?/  
  
One more glance at the watch around his wrist and he impatiently pushes up from the table, walking away to the clink of rattled china and the stares from the people three tables over, who are wearing ID laces identical to his.  
  
/Run, Tonpu/  
  
He flees up the fire-exit stairways, ignoring the growing stitch in his side.  
  
And then there are no more steps, and the roaring cry of the wind fills Tonpu's ears. Atop the soaring seventy-floor tower there are no safety railings or prying eyes, and the world is spread out at his feet: shimmering ocean with its hidden depths to one side, and tawny sands with their deceptive stretches to the other.  
  
I watch him then, this Tonpu, as the wind makes the hems of my black coat flail below my knees. In his light gray suit he seems to blend into the smoky haze that broods over this city, but for the blue hair that he has loosened and now flies randomly around his tortured, handsome features.  
  
Those features are carved stone as he steps right to the edge of the platform and peers down at the streets below; I stand beside him, at his shoulder, and listen to him.  
  
/I never thought this was so high up how do the window washers do it? The people look like ants and the cars look like the toys I played with when I was a child and mother and father were alive falling so fast and it looks so far I don't want to take a long time to die/  
  
He has made up his mind. There is nothing more that can be said or done. And his eyes are the eyes of the damned.  
  
He swallows, throws back his hair, squares his shoulders. Spreads his arms out to the sand and the sea and the sky and the steel all around us. And he is over the edge of the building in one sudden movement.  
  
Angels are bound to their human wards for the length of time they're given to live, and from them learn a semblance of emotion, feel a modicum of pain. And literally we live and die with them, the latter very briefly; but we survive them, and renew our duties with other wards.  
  
*****  
  
Two: Men  
  
Tonpu writhes in pain on the sidewalk, seventy floors below - he lives, but not for very long. Already the blood is pooling behind his shattered head and his eyes are growing dim, and the shadow at my side is slowly assuming his form.  
  
A voice slices through the shocked silence of the people gathering around the broken form: 'Tonpu!!!' A long-limbed form crashes into the cleared space, pulling the body to his chest. His voice rises, breaks, on a shocked mourning cry: 'NOOOOOOOOO!!!'  
  
My ward stirs and opens his eyes.   
  
/Sha Gojyo why are you here/  
  
And then Tonpu manages to speak, crimson froth bubbling from his mouth: 'Sorry.man...can you...look after the.rest....'  
  
I, too, know the darkness, for one infinite moment.  
  
The red-haired and red-eyed man rises suddenly, carrying his friend's body, and the crowd parts for him and his burden.   
  
Tonpu - the spirit that stands at my side - follows.  
  
The bearer leads us into the county hospital to sign the death certificate, to a morgue for the mandatory autopsy, and then into a funeral home where he becomes one of only a handful of mourners.  
  
When my ward sees the wreath of white roses on his coffin he nods, whispers /Thank you Gojyo/ and finally allows me to lead him on.  
  
I return and watch as the other man sees everyone out the door - as two more days pass without him seeing any new faces - as he stands alone in knee-high grass, the only person left behind after a Spartan burial.   
  
He does not need his voice to cry out. This Gojyo's pain is real, as deep as from a close friend or a beloved brother or sister.   
  
/Three days ago I was thinking of calling you up I've just gotten my parole and I wanted to find a friend and you were the first one I remembered but I saw you fall man I was just across the street and I recognized you and your blue hair and you saw me/  
  
He has no angel at present. Neither am I assigned to take a new ward within the three days that are normally given as downtime. It is an anomalous situation for both of us.  
  
One more anomaly: I am drawn to this man somehow.  
  
*****  
  
Three: And Never the Twain Shall Meet...?  
  
The season of summer storms begins and the streets become a riot of color and pattern: umbrellas and rain coats and rubber boots, lightweight and cheerful in otherwise cloud-darkened days.  
  
/She's such a pain she may be my sister but she has no right to say those things I can't live without him he's my Nicholas if I never see her again it'll be far too soon what do I do? I know I should make her leave us alone but I don't know what I should say/  
  
/Does she like me when do I call her back she was just amazing last night I've never known a woman like her and she has such a beautiful name Averill just rolls off my tongue and she looks exactly like those lilies we were laughing about I can't stop thinking about her/  
  
/I'm having a baby I'm having a baby girl I can hardly believe it I've always wanted a beautiful baby daughter of my own I want her to have her father's bright flaming red hair and my violet eyes and I'll call her Moira that's a good name it was my great-grandmother's/  
  
A shriek shatters the quiet of a local market and a young woman in a short blue skirt and white blouse runs in, to the amusement of the man in the fruit stall immediately to my right, and the surprise of the two men and one woman who are standing nearby waiting for the rain to subside.  
  
'Oi! Why couldn't you wait?' And suddenly Tonpu's friend, the man with the red hair named Sha Gojyo follows her in, his umbrella still open and dripping water in a wide circle as he chases the young woman around the market.  
  
She brushes very closely by me, then fights her way through the knot of pedestrians before vanishing into the gathering afternoon darkness.  
  
'Hey, got a light?'  
  
He is still somewhat subdued from the events of last week, but a hint of his normal easygoing manner is beginning to break through; he stands there with one hand held out partway in my direction, and he sees to be waiting for a response.  
  
From me?  
  
You can see me?  
  
'Of course I can, I'm not blind. Now, do you have a light or not?'  
  
No, I do not.   
  
'You're not some kind of smoking Nazi, are you? Ah well.' Cigarette lit and in the corner of his mouth, he looks at me and grins, mostly roguishly. 'What's your name?'  
  
Hakkai.  
  
'I'm Gojyo. Wanna come along? I got some shopping to do.'  
  
His first stop is the fruit stall, and he gets into an argument with the owner over the freshness of certain articles of food.  
  
'So when'd you say you got the apples?'  
  
The man's eyebrows inch upward to his receding hairline as he answers: 'They came in this morning, what do you think? Everything at this market comes in before you even think about waking up from that cushy little bed of yours, mister, and *I* get first pick, every day. My fruits ought to be fresh enough for you.'  
  
Gojyo grudgingly agrees with that statement , but insists on taking his time with picking his fruits.  
  
'Bored yet?'  
  
No, I am not.  
  
'You don't talk much do you? Hakkai, what sort of a name is that? Well, come on back with me, may as well share some of this with you - I think I got more than I came for, don't you think so?'  
  
'Hey, Gojyo! Wait up!' And faster than thought a golden-eyed boy darts across the street towards us, his face wreathed in smiles. 'Hi to you too, mister, why're you always dressed in black?'  
  
I prefer to wear such clothing.  
  
'How you hangin', Goku, everything okay?' Gojyo slaps the younger man's proffered palm and has his slapped in return; the greetings done, he leads the way back up the street. 'Heard you got yourself into some trouble a couple days ago, did you beat 'em up good?'  
  
'One of them's in the hospital, does that count?'  
  
Gojyo turns to me and winces, the expression safely hidden from the brown-haired boy; in an undertone he explains: 'The problem with him - his name's Son Goku - he don't know his strength. Not the sharpest crayon in the box either, but damn he knows how to live, and maybe that's why I like hangin' around him so much. He got into a fight with some classmates last week, I think one of his friends was disrespected and then fists started flying an' all that. They lost so there was another fight two days ago - they went out to some parking lot and started punchin' the bad guys out and now he just said he sent somebody to the hospital. Some kid, huh?'  
  
He is quite a young man, I tell the red-haired other. And I myself am distracted by the train of his thoughts.  
  
/I had a strange dream last night there was another boy with gold eyes that were just like mine and he said he was my friend and we went and found some raspberries in a big and beautiful garden and he said he wanted to play hide and seek when his dad came out to look for us and then I never found him again I wonder why he did that where is he now maybe if I asked Sanzou again tonight he might be able to tell me where to find that boy I don't even remember his name Sanzou promised he would help me find him I want to find him so much/  
  
'You're a strange one, mister...Hakkai, right? Do you remember me, I'm Goku, we met at that newspaper stand?'  
  
Yes, I remember you. You have such unusual golden eyes.  
  
'Sanzou says it means something but he's not sure what it is exactly, so he's going to try and find out some more about it. Do you know anything about it, Hakkai?'  
  
I am sorry, I do not know either. I also will try to find out what I can - I will ask some of my brothers if they know.  
  
'Wow, that sounds so nice, do you have a lot of brothers?'   
  
'Catch, kid,' and Gojyo interrupts us at that moment to throw a pair of apples at the younger man. 'This's our stop. Tell Sanzou he owes me a beer, ya hear me?'  
  
'Thanks, Gojyo! See you again soon, Hakkai!' And Goku darts across the street, nimbly dodging cars and other pedestrians to make his way back into the heart of the city.  
  
Once in Gojyo's apartment - a simple one-room affair on the sixth floor of a building with a broken elevator and a rundown lobby - he opens the brown paper bag of fruits, and reds and oranges and yellows spill across his scratched tabletop.  
  
I watch him waver between an apple, an orange and a banana before finally peeling the orange, sharp-nailed fingers expertly sectioning the fruit. 'Want some?'  
  
Thank you but no, I am not hungry.  
  
'Well, I didn't know you knew that little guy. What a kid he is, huh? One in a million.'  
  
Yes, I agree. There is certainly something quite unusual about him.   
  
'I think you were fibbing though - you know something about him, don't you?'  
  
It takes a long moment before I answer this man with the penetrating, truth-seeking manner: Yes, I do know why he has those golden eyes. Am I correct in assuming that you know nothing about his family?  
  
'Come to that, yeah,' and he sits down on the couch, still eating his orange. 'I asked him once, or I think it was Sanzou I asked - that's his guardian - and he said he didn't know anything about it. Some sort of crazy shit like that. Heck, I always kinda figured he had to be some sort of orphan, why else would he have a guardian 'stead of parents, right?'  
  
There are worlds beyond the reach of mortal senses, and beings that cannot be easily comprehended - more so in this city that subscribes to the power of instant information and all-pervasive technology. Your young friend Son Goku is one of those mysterious beings: an earth spirit, a rock-child. He was born from a great rock that stood between the earth and the sky, atop a high mountain. This happens very rarely, and with good reason, because such a child is often the subject of fears and misunderstandings about his or her origin.  
  
  
  
Gojyo is silent for a few moments before venturing his opinion - calmly, accepting the information with an equanimity rare in the people of this time. 'I'll buy that, I guess, just because that Goku's so damn unusual. I don't want to know how you know so much about this, but I would like to know, how many of these rock-children are on this planet now?'  
  
Goku is the only one at present.  
  
'It figures someone's keeping tabs on him,' is the next thing the red-haired man says. 'With all the trouble that kid gets into and out of, it just figures he's got some other protector than that Sanzou guy. Mind you, I don't envy him - Goku's got so much energy, some days it makes me tired just to look at him grinning like he does all the time.'  
  
And he will smile with all his heart for the many, many years he will live yet. That particular rock-child will live for thousands of years, as eternal as the rock and the earth that birthed him, and age slowly. Goku will be as a child for some hundred years, and similarly go through the stages of his life at a slow pace.  
  
Gojyo raises one fine eyebrow. 'He's not immortal?'  
  
Even the greatest rocks cannot stand forever in their monumental forms - they too are weathered down by wind and water, or changed by fire and the earth upon which they stand.  
  
'Okay, I'll buy that. What a kid. And what a guy you are to know stuff like that about him.'  
  
*****  
  
Four: A Red Mark  
  
I take my leave of Gojyo before sunset.  
  
Among my brethren we have a ritual enacted twice daily, a ritual that we have participated in and witnessed thousands of times: our ritual of Singing to the Sun. We gather by the ocean every day, just before sunrise and just before sunset, and we greet the sun with songs that remind us of the lands we have left and that we shall someday return to after our days of ministry.  
  
Tonight, as the song to end another journey across the summer-storm skies begins, a new voice joins us - a human voice, laden with the emotion only humans can experience in all of its changing shades and kinds.  
  
He stands at the end of the pier, his arms stretched out wide, singing the same wordless song as ours, joining in our praise and glory, his song a full-throated and strong note.  
  
I alone approach him as his song ends and stand at his side.  
  
'I can't see you but I know you're there.'  
  
And it seems that you are aware of more than just my presence here. You know the proper song for a summer sunset, and you come dressed in the proper attire for such a ritual, I reply to him and his own dark knee-length coat.  
  
The man's golden-blonde hair gleams in the dying light, and from the quick flash of flame as he lights a cigarette. 'And I shouldn't? Used to hang out here with the others at sunrise and sunset.'  
  
But you are mortal, a human being.  
  
  
  
'Still stating the obvious. Bah,' and the tip of his cigarette glows in the dusk as he inhales deeply. Finally, he turns in my general direction, pulling the overhanging fringe of his hair up from his forehead to reveal a tiny red dot above and between his eyes. 'I used to be one of you guys.'  
  
Used to be...that red mark upon your forehead? I have heard tales about it from the other brethren. It is known among us as the mark of the Fallen.  
  
'That's exactly what it is,' the blonde man mutters around his cigarette. He seems more relaxed now, and contemplative. 'I got it because I'm one of those Fallen you're talking about. Name's Genjo Sanzou.'  
  
Sanzou - the same Sanzou as Son Goku's guardian? You are one of the Fallen? How is this possible?  
  
He turns his back on the ocean and starts to walk, and I walk with him and listen to his story.   
  
'Two or three decades ago I was ministering on the western seaboard, watching over souls, sending them on, that sort of thing. Asked for a break and got it, found myself walking the same old streets but this time I wasn't even trying to listen in on anyone.  
  
'And then this golden-eyed kid walks up to me and says good morning.'  
  
Goku.  
  
'I'm really not surprised you've met him - that kid's got a good nose for celestials, just look at how he found me. He was on the seaboard then, doing odd jobs, mostly spending his time getting shuffled around foster homes. Eats way too much, see - stuffs himself with food like there's a black hole in his belly. Side effect of all those years wandering the planet without anyone to look after him.'  
  
It must have been a difficult life.  
  
'He says it was. I got curious when he said he had no memory of his family, not even names, so I decided I'd do a good deed for him before going back to my duties. And that was when I got summoned by an aspect of Mercy. Ever seen one?'  
  
I have had that privilege - she was pale and tall, and wore her dark hair tied high above her head, and she also wore a mirror on chains around her neck and waist.  
  
A dark chuckle escapes Sanzou. 'The same one I saw. She told me lots of things about the kid. And then she gave me this lecture, said that every living creature on this planet's born with a little something extra to the gift of life: the gift of free will. Mostly it's humans who use that gift, so you see people living in filth next door to the heroic types, and then there're a couple of crazy artists three doors down the corridor. But they're not the only ones - we all have it. Even we who minister.  
  
'That stuck in my head for a very long time, next to the memory of that boy who smiled at me and said he trusted me. And for a long time I was following that kid as he moved around. Lost track of him for a while, then heard news he'd surfaced here and was trying to get into school.  
  
'And that did it for me. I requested an audience with that aspect of Mercy and I asked her every question I could think of about free will. The last thing she said was that it was all up to me.'  
  
And what did you do then?  
  
He smiles. 'What every one of the Fallen does: climb to the top of a tall building, decide to fall, then go over the edge.'  
  
I must apologize, Sanzou - I confess that I find that hard to believe.  
  
'You and every other celestial I've had the misfortune to run into,' he says sarcastically as he vanishes into the early-evening rush hour. 'But I've just had a premonition about you, and maybe one day you'll find yourself on that edge too.'  
  
*****  
  
Five: A Conversation Piece  
  
The neighborhood where Gojyo lives is far from being completely safe; it is no place for a young woman to be standing alone on a street corner. But there is such a young woman standing now on the opposite curb, her purple hair falling in a neat plait to her waist.  
  
A large black dog sits by her sandal-shod feet, darker than the dusk that gathers quickly around us, panting from the summer heat.  
  
He whines softly as I cross the street to stand at the girl's side. The dog's leash is knotted loosely around her left wrist; the looped top of a white cane is around her right.  
  
/I really wish I had eyes of my own tonight I'd like to see the expression on Lilin's face when I bring home this furry friend of mine he's so quiet and so gentle I'll ask her for some help in naming him maybe I'll ask Kougaiji and Dokugakuji too I'm so excited to have this dog I can't think of a proper name/  
  
'Hello,' she says quietly, turning a face highlighted by a pair of dark sunglasses in my direction.  
  
Greetings, I reply. You are doing well?  
  
'Sort of,' is her answer, partly muffled by a small giggle. 'They gave me my first seeing-eye dog today. My aid worker said he's a big black Labrador Retriever and that I'm supposed to give him a name. Oh, that reminds me, what's *your* name? I'm Yaone.'  
  
My name is Hakkai.  
  
  
  
'That's a really nice name. Can you help me with my dog?'  
  
'Need any help with that mutt?' and a familiar voice, one roughened by cigarettes and beer, answers. 'Hi, how you hangin' Yaone?'  
  
The young woman's face breaks into a radiant smile. 'Hello, Gojyo. I'm doing fine, thank you very much.'  
  
The street lamp sparks into life overhead.  
  
'Nice dog,' the red-haired man says, and I watch him reach down to scratch behind the Labrador's ears. 'Why don't you call him Ernie? Read about a Lab that had a name like that once. And it's an easy name to remember and to say. How's that?'  
  
Yaone looks thoughtful; then puts her left hand down on the dog's head, patting him fondly. 'Ernie,' she says in its direction, 'that might be a good name for you...but maybe we should wait until we see our friends. Lilin, Kougaiji and Dokugakuji might have other suggestions, right?' Turning back in our direction, she smiles and says, 'I'll think about 'Ernie' though, all right, Gojyo?'  
  
The red-haired man nods affably. 'Fine by me, little lady. But hey, would you want some company going to your friends' place?'  
  
'Oh, we don't want to trouble either of you....'  
  
'Either of us?' Gojyo looks surprised - but only for a moment.  
  
Good evening, Gojyo.  
  
'Hey, you surprised me, man, I didn't know you were there,' are the first words out of his mouth. Stealing a glance at the politely puzzled Yaone, he adds for her benefit, 'You wear black so much it's never easy to see you, and especially at night. What are you, some kind of Goth?'  
  
'Um, Gojyo, Hakkai?' the young woman between us suddenly says. 'We'll be going now.'  
  
Once she is safely at her friends' house Gojyo turns to me and asks, 'Well?'  
  
I do not know what a Goth is.  
  
He ticks some facts off on his fingers: 'Always in black, just like you. Looks like a bookworm or hangs out at a library or a coffee shop, which would be just like you. The strong-and-silent type, just like you. Got a permanent load on the mind, just like you. And,' he holds up his thumb, 'Doesn't smile that often, just like you.'  
  
I do not think I am a Goth, I tell him. Perhaps I only seem that way to you.  
  
Back in his apartment he again offers me some fruit. 'C'mon, have some, I can't finish all of these. Gotta keep eating fruits 'cause I can't afford much of anything else right now, but I hate letting it go to waste.'  
  
I am not hungry. Or, perhaps I may put it more strongly: I am never hungry.  
  
'So what do you live on, an all-liquid diet? I got some water here,' and he fills a large glass with water from the kitchen tap, placing it by my hand on the table.  
  
I do not need to drink either.  
  
  
  
Gojyo tilts his head to one side, a curious spark in his red eyes. 'Okay, no food, no water, doesn't ever get tired, shows up out of nowhere like a ghost. Yaone knows you even if she's been blind most of her life and you know a hell of a lot about that gold-eyed kid. So tell me, Mr. Hakkai-no-I'm-not-a-Goth,' he opens both hands and spreads them out in my direction, 'just who or maybe what are you?'  
  
I cannot answer him quickly, and it is a surprise to be looking for the right words to say to this man. I assume you already think I am an unusual being.  
  
'Hell yeah. Anyone who's as smart as you about the sort of stuff you get out of books isn't normal. And neither is someone who hasn't got common sense to remember Yaone's blind or Goku's too fuckin hyperactive.'  
  
You are correct in your initial assumption, Gojyo. I appear human to you, Yaone, Sanzou and Goku -   
  
'Whoa, hold up, you actually *met* that chain-smoking blonde grouch?'  
  
I met Genjo Sanzou at the seashore three afternoons ago. He and I are...related, after a fashion.  
  
Gojyo's crimson eyes widen, perceptible even in the dim light of his apartment. 'How is that possible?'  
  
It takes another long moment before I can begin to describe myself to him. When I spoke to you at length about Son Goku's origins I described him to you as a being that cannot be easily comprehended, one who belongs to a different ken than human beings. I...I am like him, in that sense. I pause, then decide to say it succinctly: I am not a human being either.  
  
'What are you then?'  
  
To use Sanzou's word: I am a celestial, descended to this earth in order to watch over souls, to minister to those who require succor, and to guide those who are to depart this world to their appointed destinations. Perhaps the people of this time might still use the term 'angel' in reference to me and to my brethren.  
  
There is a long silence in the apartment.  
  
'So if you've got a job,' and Gojyo begins once more, his voice coming close to breaking as he speaks, 'why the hell do I see you around so much? You followin' me around or something?'  
  
That is so. I look into his eyes as I say this, and it is not easy.  
  
'*Why*?'  
  
I was Tonpu's...angel, I tell him. I was with him as he jumped to his death, and it was my task to lead his soul to its next destination. But he survived that plunge, long enough to see you, and to speak to you. He would not leave this world without seeing you complete the task he had set for you. And so I found myself in close proximity to you, for the four days between his death and his burial.  
  
You...fascinated me.  
  
'This has got to be some kind of joke!' Gojyo explodes suddenly, jumping up from his seat and pacing around. I do not need to listen to his thoughts to know that he is agitated - his jerking gait tells the story. 'I have some kind of know-it-all heavenly *stalker*? What, you had nothing better to do after taking my friend away so you hung around and watched me bury him? And then you show up, pretend to be someone I can talk to about it and all that, even talk to my friends? The hell I'm going to believe that! Tell me why you followed me around!'  
  
I was drawn to you - to your loyalty to your friend, and to the emotions you displayed while you fulfilled his wishes, and to the light that shone from your heart. And you saw me, that rainy day in the market, when you asked me for a light.  
  
'I *don't* believe in angels, and I *don't* believe in that sort of relationship. Not anymore.' His voice is hissing now, low and serious. 'Been there, done that, got the bloodstained shirt. So I guess you should do me and you a favor: get out and take your angel-celestial bullshit with you! I don't want to see you or even sense you ever again!'  
  
*****  
  
Six: Falling Into You  
  
Outside the apartment building I am caught in a flash of golden light.  
  
_Well, well, well,_ a husky voice that is neither masculine nor feminine murmurs while I regain my bearings. _Another one of you eminently clueless ones. Really, I must say the training they give you hasn't been up to scratch at all._  
  
I am standing in a familiar place: sunlit for eternity, as enduring as the calm of the water at my feet, as beautiful as the iridescent water lilies floating in the water.   
  
Before me is a high-backed throne, and in it is seated a woman in white robes. A large, circular mirror is suspended from her neck, reflecting the lily pond, and her hair is tied high above her head in a neat tail. This is the first of the Five Aspects of Mercy.  
  
I begin to bow to her, but with an elegant hand she gestures at me to stop. _Please,_ she says in a haughty manner, _I'm so sick and tired of the obeisance thing. Can't we all just talk normally, like human beings do?_  
  
Even humans observe certain proprieties and offer certain respects, I say carefully.  
  
The aspect laughs. _That they do. Well said, my young minister. Now, give me your name._  
  
I am Hakkai.  
  
_Ah, yes, your last ward was that blue-haired boy, was it not? And now you're that one who's recently come into contact with our newest rock-child, not to mention contacting the one Fallen I was keeping tabs on. Tell me, Hakkai,_ she says casually, _what are your plans now?_  
  
The normal - and I would presume dutiful - answer would be to await my next assignment. But that was not forthcoming in the days after Tonpu, and I feel I would be foolish to expect it now.  
  
_I do so like a being with a sense of humor,_ the aspect laughs. _And what of that redhead...Gojyo, correct? You seem to have stirred a hornet's nest in that one - and in so doing, stirred up the mother of all nests in yourself._  
  
I pause and attempt to collect my thoughts. It was perhaps a mere coincidence that I met him while fulfilling my duties to Tonpu. But in that coincidence I have met a unique - and contradictory - person. Gojyo.  
  
The aspect nods thoughtfully. _People are like that. Human beings are certainly the most interesting to watch over, are they not? And they act like they do because they have recognized that the greatest gift they have received after life is that of free will. Accordingly they choose to do the things that they want to do, in the manner by which they wish to do them._  
  
  
  
Sanzou told me that this gift of free will is not limited to human beings - that all things spanned by creation also have it.  
  
_That's so. That Goku has it and so chooses to live his life in spades. Sanzou used it to become one of the Fallen, out of love for that rock-child. Your Tonpu had it, and he used it to plunge to his death. And your Gojyo exercises it by choosing his beliefs and his way of living._  
  
I consider her words as she goes on.  
  
_I know about this free will myself, my minister, or I would not have the knowledge to advise others about it, am I not right? Listen to me, Hakkai,_ and she leans forward in her seat. Her face is grave now, shorn of the half-smile she greeted me with. _If you've believed nothing of what I've been saying so far, then believe in this: it's all up to you what you want to do next. There is no such thing as a Great Other Force that directs your feet into the paths you take. The only force there is, is the one that's inside you. The one you and I've named already: free will. And now, my minister, your future's all in your hands. Yours and no one else's._  
  
And what would happen to me, if I should use such free will to become one of the Fallen? I ask of the seated aspect.  
  
_That's easy, she replies, regaining her fluid grace. I suppose you've already heard how it's done? Pick a random tall structure - anything over twenty feet will do - and go over the edge? Well, the impact will knock you unconscious, of course, and when you wake up you'll be a walking, talking mass of aches and pains that you've never known before. Naturally._ She laughs again. _You'll want food and drink and medical attention, and then you'll have to learn how to live without your celestial abilities. You'll have to live with the knowledge that someday one of your former brethren will come for you - in other words, you'll have to deal with becoming mortal. And that's not even the half of it...but I'd rather not tell you the rest. Better that you find it all out yourself - that's part of being human, after all._  
  
Her words are still ringing in my head as the sun sets over this city between the ocean and the desert. I am standing once more atop the seventy-story building from which Tonpu jumped to his death, the wind again whipping at the hems of my coat.  
  
It is silent here, in the pause between day and night, high above the multitudes of humanity, and the celestial beings, and all else that dwell in this ever-moving city. It is almost as silent as the apartment that I have left, where a red-haired man sits alone, contemplating the gathering dusk.  
  
The words that Sanzou spoke have already come true, as I find myself teetering here, weighing a celestial existence against a mortal one.  
  
There may very well be much that Gojyo and I will have to learn.  
  
I open my arms to the sky, turn my eyes to the streets below, and step off the edge.  
  
*****  
  
Seven: Welcome  
  
'Hakkai! Hakkai! Wake up, Hakkai!'  
  
The voice is familiar, but loud, and I shake my head and try to open my eyes.  
  
'Look, Sanzou, he's awake,' the voice says again, and finally I am able to make out two light sources to my side: a shock of fine golden hair, and a pair of wide golden eyes. 'Hakkai,' the boy says, his tears shining in the morning sun. 'Please be all right.'  
  
'Calm down, monkey,' Sanzou says. There is indeed a note of affection in his voice, but buried so deep I myself am not sure about hearing it. 'You see he's responding already. Do me a favor, Goku,' he suddenly says, 'get me a Coke or something from the machines in the lobby. And get yourself something while you're at it.'  
  
'Sankyuu!' Goku bounces out a door.   
  
'So,' and the blonde man leans lightly on a metal railing, 'welcome to the human race, Hakkai. How're you feeling?'  
  
It hurts to find my voice, much less use it, but I manage to say something intelligible: 'I cannot describe my condition, Sanzou, and it seems I cannot move any of my limbs.'  
  
'Yeah, well, falling off a seventy-story building will do that to you. The docs say you're something of a medical miracle, but that shows what they know, eh?'  
  
'What of my injuries?'  
  
Sanzou shrugs. 'Not too bad. They put you under a sedative last night while they made sure your bones weren't broken, but you'll be able to move around in an hour or so. The damage's mostly on your face - cuts and bruises when you hit the sidewalk. Nothing that can be done about those except wait.' He turns and vanishes from my field of vision.  
  
'Sanzou.'  
  
He answers from near my feet. 'Yeah.'  
  
I can only say the one word: 'Gojyo....'  
  
'Knows nothing. Yet. But Goku went to the phone lines last night. He probably told anyone he thinks might have come into contact with you. Not a long list, but that makes it easier for all of us, doesn't it?'  
  
'I would rather go to him myself.'  
  
'Not for another,' and he looks at his watch, 'ninety minutes. At least. The doctor's still coming back to brief you about your condition, prescribe you some medicines, all that medical shit.'  
  
'I do not care about that.'  
  
He finally chuckles, a warm sound, and unexpected. 'You're beginning to sound a lot like me, pal, and I don't blame you. So there's one more reason why I sent Goku downstairs when I did: I asked him to find you an exit out of this place. It's the least we can do for you.'  
  
Sanzou assists me to stand, slowly, and helps me into bulky, dark garments that conceal the worst of my injuries. We make our way down endless tiled corridors lit by harsh fluorescent lights, and gradually come into the wood-paneled lobby, where Goku is standing near one door. 'All ready?' he asks the boy.  
  
'Ready.' A taxi is already waiting outside.   
  
The blonde man leans inside the driver's window and says, 'You got the address, you got your money. Get him there quick.'  
  
The apartment building soon looms over me, familiar and strange at the same time. I make my way up the stairs and knock on Gojyo's door.  
  
A loud bark is the first sound in response, and then the sounds of a dog in motion.  
  
'Ernie?' comes from behind the door, and then it opens - Gojyo is there, holding on to the leash of a dog that looks exactly like Yaone's seeing-eye companion, but somehow seems different. 'You...what the hell happened to you?'  
  
'Fell,' I whisper as I lose my balance again, and feel the strength of his arms as he catches me.  
  
A stinging sensation around my eyes makes my body move away as Gojyo attempts to place a piece of white material on my face.  
  
'Keep still, I've gotta do something about that cut on your forehead,' the red-haired man mutters, sounding distracted. He taps the material against my skin again, and I try not to cry out. 'Sorry. Just let me finish this.'  
  
'What are you doing?'  
  
'Making sure you won't have any scars on that pretty face of yours.'  
  
*****  
  
Eight: Humans Being  
  
'You fell off *what*?'  
  
I am lying on my back again, bundled into a bed that is worn thin in places, but feels *right*. Gojyo places a light blanket over my body, and looks at me with disbelief as I answer his question: 'It was the same building that your friend Tonpu jumped from - I knew of no other place I could try to fall from.'  
  
He shakes his head, and flaming-red strands sway around his features. 'If I didn't know any better I'd think you were a lying bastard...but damn, you look like hell and you're bleeding again, and you honestly *look* like you fell from that building. You're crazy, you know that?'  
  
'I hope I am not, if I am to fully live out my human life span.'  
  
Ernie - this soft-furred dog is indeed Ernie - sits down on the floor next to the bed, putting his head near my hand. He whines softly, and I can sense his concern.  
  
'We'll talk about that later,' Gojyo answers. 'Get some rest. You look like you really need it.'  
  
My eyes fall half-closed before he finishes the sentence, and the next time I am aware of anything, sunlight is streaming through the windows of the apartment. And I am no longer alone in the bed.  
  
Strong arms are wound around my waist, and a warm weight rests gently against my back. Gojyo's heart beats steadily, and - to my surprise - so is mine, a human heart. And the two seem to be coming together into a single rhythm.  
  
I turn to face him.  
  
He is no less vibrant for his repose, no less alive even if he does not move and his breathing is slow and even. There is an expression of ease on his features, the skin smoothed of worry lines and tension. He is...he is beautiful.   
  
'Hey, gorgeous.'  
  
Those crimson eyes are open now, smiling quietly in the morning sunlight.  
  
'Hello,' I answer him.  
  
He stretches his long arms over his head, then yawns. 'Ahh, I've forgotten how nice this is,' he says with a slight chuckle.  
  
'What is nice?' I ask.  
  
'Waking up next to somebody cute.' The roguish grin appears again, for a fleeting instant. 'A teenaged guy would think waking up next to an impossibly beautiful woman was the next best thing to heaven. But I'm not sixteen anymore,' and Gojyo laughs self-deprecatingly, 'and I just remembered why I'm so glad for that. I guess there really is something to be said for waking up next to a really good-looking guy. Maybe I just needed to remember.'  
  
Something occurs to me then. 'That last night, before I fell...that other kind of relationship you spoke about - it is this, between two men?'  
  
He winces, and little worry lines persist between his eyebrows as he answers: 'You got a good memory, Hakkai, but I wish you and I could forget about that particular conversation. I shouldn't have said what I did then. That fall must've hurt you really bad....'  
  
I shake my head, and he stops. 'I fell because I wanted to. Believe me. I have my reasons for becoming one of the Fallen,' and my hand drifts to my forehead, where I know the red dot has now appeared. 'You are among them, Gojyo, and yet there are so many other things I want to know as well - so, I am human.'   
  
'That's good to hear,' my red-haired companion says, just before he moves, pressing his lips gently against mine.   
  
Reason flees suddenly, for the infinite moment that we are in contact. It feels as if my body is no longer lying on the bed: as if I am once again falling through the sky, but knowing that I need not experience that most painful landing; as if I am standing on the seashore and Singing to the Sun once again, but knowing that I need not remember any words or melodies. His touch thrills along my skin like wildfire, and I know no other sensation, forget my wounds and bruises, only him and his heat that overwhelms me.  
  
Gojyo reluctantly pulls back, but there is a gentle smile on his face. 'I take it,' he says quietly, 'you enjoyed that. It's called a kiss.'  
  
I am still not thinking. Perhaps that is why I reach for him before he can say anything else, and attempt to kiss him again - his gasp of surprise vanishes into me, as my hesitation and shyness into him.  
  
*****  
  
Nine: The Breakfast Club  
  
When I am woken up, hours later, by something shrilling in the silence of Gojyo's apartment, the sunlight is deep golden and heavy with the dust of the day.  
  
My companion half rolls onto his side, slowly, and picks up the telephone. 'H'lo....'  
  
From his other side I can hear Son Goku, excited and energetic as always: 'Hey Gojyo! You guys doing anything for dinner? 'Cos Sanzou asked me to ask you guys out! We might even watch the movie that just came out, that *Matrix Reloaded* thing, so you guys want to go?'  
  
'Breakfast,' Gojyo mutters into the receiver.  
  
'What?'  
  
'We haven't had anything to eat all day yet, kid. Tell your Genjo Sanzou we'll be glad to join you guys, but he better have his wallet because we're starving.' He puts the phone down and turns back to me. 'A couple of meals on someone else's tab sound good to you?'  
  
'I am hungry,' I tell him quietly. 'And I'm sure your Ernie is as well.'  
  
'*Damn*, you're right,' he mutters. It takes him a good few minutes to rise, but he stumbles into the kitchen and opens a can, tipping its contents into a dish for his huge black pet.   
  
I too get out of bed and try to see what I can do to clean up our much-rumpled bed, but Gojyo sees me, and places a gentle hand over mine. 'Leave it, I'm too hungry to bother with sheets and pillows and shit. I'll show you how to work the shower and all that first, then I'll go see if I can lend you something to wear for dinner, okay?'  
  
'I would like that.'  
  
An hour later Ernie is straining at the leash in my hand, his tongue hanging out as he tows Gojyo and I through the front door. I can no longer sense his feelings, but his eyes are bright and active and he could almost be smiling in his delight to be outdoors again.  
  
'Will Sanzou and Goku mind that we have brought Ernie? After all, we do not know where we will be dining tonight.' I brush some dust from the lapel of the short-sleeved shirt my companion has lent me, black as were most of my former clothes. Tonight, I am wearing it with a pair of his indigo denim jeans, worn soft with washing, and my own socks and shoes.  
  
My red-haired friend is equally casual in a long-sleeved gray shirt over black denims, and a pair of openwork sandals. 'Don't worry about the dog, my friend,' and he slings an arm around my shoulders. 'I know where Sanzou's taking us tonight. The guy never stops smoking and he needs to see sky above him - which means he'll be at the waterfront with the kid, and that's one place Ernie's most welcome.'  
  
When he hears his name spoken by his master, the big black dog barks once, happily.  
  
And it is the dog that first sees our dinner companions - I am listening to our footsteps on the planks of the boardwalk when he suddenly veers to the right, pulling hard on the leash.  
  
'Let him go, Hakkai!' Gojyo calls good-naturedly from behind.  
  
I drop the leash - he slinks around three startled women at their table - evokes delighted squeals from a pair of toddlers near the breakwater rail - and finally lunges toward Goku, who is squatting down about five feet away from their table.  
  
Gojyo and I walk around the tangle of boy and dog; our smiles must mirror those of the other people at the waterfront who are watching the two friends' reunion.   
  
'Good evening,' I say to Sanzou as I pull out the chair on his right. Gojyo grins and sits on my right, and we link hands under the tablecloth.  
  
'Hi guys,' and a panting Goku takes the last place at the table; Ernie stretches out on the ground between me and Gojyo. Their tired-famished expressions are nearly identical, and I cannot help but smile. 'I'm hungry,' the boy finally says, 'when do we eat?'  
  
Sanzou finally speaks: 'Food's on the way. Wipe your face, you got dog drool on your chin.' Goku begins an exhaustive search through his pockets for a handkerchief, and in the end his guardian offers him his own blue-checked one.  
  
Gojyo is too busy sniggering at Goku's loud complaints to notice the softened expression on the blonde's face, an expression that seems oddly similar to the one my red-haired companion wore while he was seeing to my injuries last night. The only difference is that Sanzou seems to be fighting to keep his expression neutral, and I wonder why that has to be so.  
  
The food arrives and we all set to: a large steak for Sanzou, three oversized hamburgers with fixings for Goku, and heaping plates of pasta for Gojyo and me. All of us take it in turns to share our food with our four-legged friend, but we ourselves are famished, and the plates are soon empty.   
  
We all order drinks, and Ernie and Goku excuse themselves for a walk along the waterfront.   
  
'Hey Sanzou,' Gojyo suddenly says, 'you mind if you helped me out with getting Hakkai here used to this world?'  
  
'If Goku'll let me,' is his cryptic reply as he finishes off his bottle of beer and joins his ward and our dog.  
  
'Alone at last.' The red-haired man pulls his chair closer to mine, and drapes his arm around my shoulders. 'Or, maybe I'm not going to be alone anymore, at last. How's that sound to you?'  
  
'I would like that very much,' I tell him. I take his hand on my shoulder with one of my own. 'And if you will have me, I will stay with you for as long as I will be here on this earth.'  
  
'Sounds like a winner.' And he kisses me, under these stars.  
  
It may not be an easy promise to keep, but our pact is made, and nothing else truly matters.  
  
~owari 


End file.
